Wheels And Legs, With A Nod To Chet and Nick
by dcat8888
Summary: This is my version of the back story from the episode 'Strangle Hold'


Wheels And Legs, With A Nod To Chet and Nick

by dcat

This is my version of the back story from the episode Strangle Hold.

OOOOO

It was one of those absolutely fabulous days in May. The kind when spring is completely busting through. The air is warm, the breeze is utterly fragrant, and the sunshine on your face is about the best feeling in the world.

Mark McCormick couldn't have cared less, heck, he didn't even know what a beautiful day was any more.

It was just about three months ago that he'd heard and felt and saw the heavy iron gate shut behind him as he was led into the closest thing to hell on earth, maximum security at San Quentin.

He reminded himself back during those first early days to keep up the faith and have a positive attitude. He could make it through a couple of years of this. No problem right? Wrong, he was ready to lose it inside. Here it was just three short months in and this nightmare was the ugliest, most painful thing that he thought he would ever have to endure.

First it was the smell of this sewer, sweat and perspiration and stink from ceiling to floor, only capped off by the occasional waft of industrial strength, all-purpose, heavy duty cleaning solution. It didn't do anything at all, not even mask the stench that permeated everything. After that came the monotony, sleep, shower, eat, play cards, take a class, play ball, lock-up, all on a scheduled routine of someone else's choosing. Nothing was your own. Then came the endless hours of loneliness. And perhaps the worst of all, seeing the same look on every face that you passed by, be it con or guard. It was the same face you wore. It was a hopeless feeling of despair. Sure sometimes a smile or laugh managed to sneak its way to the forefront, but it was quickly gone and then that mirrored look was on every face again.

On this beautiful day in May, McCormick was prone on his back, not caring much about anything at all, just wanting it to be some sort of bad nightmare. If only that were true. His hands were tucked behind his head, as he lay on the top bunk of cell 412. He didn't even know the sun was shinning outside. The cold brick wall was all that he could see. Sure he could have gone out into the yard, but why, the brick was out there too. When the cells had been opened for break time, McCormick stayed put. What was the point?

Guard Chet Morris walked the hall and saw McCormick still inside. He thought about asking if he was sick, but he knew it wasn't a bug that was his problem. A thirty-two veteran of the guard's at Quentin and he'd seen the same problem so many times he'd lost count. A con named Nick had told him about it when he was in his first year. McCormick was giving in to despair. It was just about right, he made it to the three month mark of his incarceration. Most guys hit this 'wall' after two. There wasn't much anyone could do for him, other than let him be. Some of the more hardened cons inside would turn the depression into anger and rage and wind up in the hole. Some guys had to resign themselves to their sentence and go on from there. Morris knew McCormick was one of these guys. He'd get past it with time, or maybe with a little help from a friend.

Morris walked back to the guard room. "Everything's quiet on the floor," he said as he entered the secure room.

"Let's hope it stays that way," Jon Ryan tossed back as he kept his eyes focused on the monitors in front of him. The phone in the tiny room began to ring. Morris went to pick it up.

"Yes sir? Yes, sure, I understand." Chet Morris paused and listened to the voice on the other end. "Uh, yeah, yes sir, actually I do today. 412 B. Yes, I'll bring him down." Morris hung up the phone.

"What was that about?" Ryan asked him.

"Katie Murphy's here," Morris simply said.

Ryan chuckled. "That girl never gives up does she? She must think she's some sort of angel in disguise."

"Maybe she is," Chet replied.

"You got someone in mind?"

"Yeah, open up 412 okay?"

"Denton? Come on Chet, the old geezer is married, besides, I think I saw him head out into the yard. You'd give him a heart attack for sure if he was in for a visit from Katie Murphy."

"Not Denton, that new kid in there with him, McCormick," Chet said. He fixed his hat back on the top of his head.

"Are you crazy, there's plenty of guys who've been here longer than he has, he's just a puppy Chet. Are you going soft on this one?"

Chet was slightly annoyed. "Just open the cell, will ya?" He opened up the secured door and headed back down to McCormick's cell.

Mark was fading in and out of a nap when he heard his cell click open. "That you Buddy?" He called out. "I thought you were going to play chess out on the yard?"

"Nope, it's not Denton," Chet Morris said. "Get up McCormick."

Mark's eyes flew open and he quickly sat up on the bunk and flipped his legs over the side. "Did I do something wrong Officer Morris?"

"Nope, you got a visitor."

"Me?" He couldn't believe his ears.

"You're the only McCormick in cell 412. You gonna sit there and jaw with me about it or are you going to go see who came to see you."

This was some sort of weird occurrence. Mark jumped down off the bunk and started to tuck in his shirt oddly enough. Something he rarely did on the outside, certainly never inside this shit hole, who gave a damn anyway about whether his shirt was tucked in, while his mind whirred with thoughts of who would come visit him. He crossed off his deceased mother and absent father right off the bat. And along with them, the few distant aunts and uncles he could recall and his even more distant cousins. That left him with a handful of friends. And at the top of the list would be Flip Johnson, but he was out on the circuit, in the midst of the new racing season, no where near Quentin. He had no idea who could have come to see him.

He stepped out into the long hall and followed behind Morris as he led him down to the visitor room. In the three months he'd been there, Flip had only stopped in once and only for about twenty minutes. If it wasn't Flip, he had no idea. It would have to be a surprise.

"You want to step it up McCormick," Chet said to him, as Mark kept his head down as he walked, deep in thought.

Mark looked up and nodded at him, well, at the back of his head. "Do you know who it is Morris?"

"Do I look like the cruise director on this ship McCormick? How the hell would I know who's visiting you? The call came in, I came and got you and I'm delivering you. That's all I got to do. Understand?"

Mark wasn't satisfied at all, but the response didn't surprise him. "Yeah, you're a really prince Morris."

Chet Morris kept his smile to himself. Maybe he'd taken a page out of Katie Murphy's book for today and was playing an angel himself. Sometimes you did what you had to do to try to make this miserable world a little brighter, even inside a place like San Quentin. Anything was possible.

They arrived at the processing dock to the visitor area and Chet opened up the door system for McCormick to enter. "Have a nice visit McCormick," he said as he closed the door behind him. He never heard McCormick's reply, but he did see him try to turn around and comment one last thing to him. It didn't matter. Hopefully Katie Murphy could help this one out, like she'd done so many times before.

McCormick peered over the wall and window separator's to try to see who his visitor might be. The room was about one-third full. This wasn't a visiting room with partitions, this was a full fledged room where you could sit next to your visitor, and have a good honest to goodness conversation. That was as long as you obeyed the simple rules of no physical contact of any kind and no passing of paraphernalia. A lot of the con's sat across from their loved ones, while a few more were still trickling in. Against the far wall were a few people waiting. No one looked familiar to him.

His eyes scanned the visitors over and over, when the door from the opposite side, the visitor side opened and in walked the most beautiful blonde woman he'd ever seen. If he didn't know better, he'd have though his heart and lungs both stopped completely. She was breathtaking from head to toe.

"Damn," he mumbled under his breath. "Who does she belong to?" The con in front of him let out a whistle. And all the guys in line focused all their attention to the woman. The processing guards had to remind them to step forward to keep the line moving.

"That is one gorgeous woman," the whistler said, turning around to look at Mark.

"Yeah, her legs don't quit," Mark murmured, almost inaudibly. "She's stunning."

"Too bad my old lady doesn't look like that," the whistler kept talking.

Mark, by this time was gone, lost in her physical beauty, imagining what her voice was like, how she smelled and felt, his ears had gone deaf, and his eyes were glued to the blonde beauty, watching ever little move she made, the way she tossed her hair back, the way she balanced from leg to leg and the way she held herself and allowed herself to smile amidst this gloom and despair. She was damn near perfect and he'd have given anything to be able to have her as a visitor.

He was being finger jabbed by the con behind him. "Move it Skid, you're up next, hurry up, we all want to get in there."

Mark took a deep breath and dropped his gaze from her to the guard at the desk.

"Name?"

"McCormick, Mark."

"Number?"

"514788"

"Cell?"

"412 C Block."

"You're clear, go ahead," was the guard's response.

The door opened and McCormick was ushered through to the visitor area, without him being able to ask for the name of his visitor. He tried to look behind him, but the door was already closed and the large room stood before him.

He felt the urge to shove his hands into the pockets of his dark green pants and he searched around the room again and still didn't see anyone he knew, so in went the hands out of nervousness and frustration. Maybe his visitor hadn't gotten checked through the other side yet. He spotted an empty table and headed over toward it and took the stool and waited. He glanced one more time and saw people laughing and talking and even spotted the blonde once more. She still waited too. He hung his head down. This type of loneliness was worst of all.

"Are you Mark McCormick?"

He looked up slowly and saw the blonde standing in front of him. She'd walked clean over from the other side of the room and stood over him. There were those glorious legs of hers again, followed by those arms and then that face with all that beautiful blonde hair and a smile that could light up Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

'Uh," he cleared his throat and tried to find his voice, "Yeah, I'm Mark McCormick."

She held out her hand for him to shake, but he reluctantly held back.

He felt he needed to explain, "Um, we're not allowed," he started to say.

"Oh yeah, that's right, I always forget, no fraternizing, as they like to call it. What a stupid rule huh? What would a shake or a hug hurt for that matter? It might just show we're all human." She took off the coat she wore and laid it on one of the stools and then sat down next to him.

"Uh, I don't know you," he said, a little suspiciously, yet intrigued by her amazing presence.

There was that smile of hers, boy was Pittsburgh one lucky city to have her electricity.

"I'm Katie Murphy. Didn't anyone tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I'm your visitor."

"There must be some mistake," Mark started, "or there must be another guy named Mark McCormick in here then."

"Nope, you're the only one, I'm here to see you. I honestly don't understand why they didn't bother to mention who your visitor was. Probably someone's stupid idea of humor."

McCormick didn't know what to say. The puzzled and dazed look remained on his face.

"Is it okay that we visit? I mean, if you have something you'd rather do, I understand."

Mark shook his head no faster than it could actually move, causing him one of those sharp, 'I moved the wrong way and now this nerve just let me know it' moves and showed the first hint of a smile, "No, I'd like that. I've only had one visitor since I got here. This is just a surprise, that's all, a pretty incredible one at that." And then his smile faded.

Katie Murphy noticed his smile disappear right away and knew why they had chosen Mark McCormick. It was that initial wall. He had to be a first timer to Quentin and the shock of his sentence had hit him square in the face. She'd seen it so many times now. "So hey, tell me all about yourself. I've got a four-hour visiting pass, so I'm yours all afternoon."

He never did ask her the most obvious question, that being, why him, none of them ever did.

"What would you like to know?" he tossed a question back at her.

"Before you came here, what did you do?"

That brought the smile back to his face, and his blue eyes even twinkled a bit, it was a fairly common question inside, right after, 'what are you in for?' He was used to both, but much preferred to talk about his career on the outside. "I used to race cars."

"That's it then," she had a immediate revelation of sorts, "it's way too formal to call you Mark, so I'm going to call you _Wheels_ instead."

"I already have a nickname," he confided.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's Skid," and then he found himself explaining it, "Skid Mark, you know the tire makes the marks on the road surface, skid marks."

She let go of a perfect laugh that drew Mark in even deeper into the magic spell she was spinning. Katie Murphy was damn near perfect. "You can save that for when you race. To me, you'll always be _Wheels_."

"Okay, that's fine," he showed the hint of a dimple right near his cheek.

"And what about me? What about a nickname for me?" She was asking him.

"Um, I don't know."

"Oh come on, a nickname has to be based on a first-impression sort of thing. It's not that tough. What was your first impression of me?" Kate wondered aloud.

He gave a half-hearted laugh and was afraid to say what it was.

"What?" She prodded him and was interested in what he had to say.

"Legs," he paused, letting his eyes roam over her lower half, "_You_, you have incredible legs."

There was that laugh again, "that's it then, it's perfect. You're Wheels and I'm Legs. I love it, don't you love it?" Her enthusiasm was contagious.

Finally he gave her a full borne smile and he followed it with a nod. "I like it too."

"Are you a big-time racing driver?"

"Can-Am circuit, I was just getting started really."

"Were you any good?"

"I won a few races, got a few trophies and a couple of paychecks to go with 'em."

"It's good that you haven't made it to the big time yet then."

"Why's that?" he asked, perplexed by her comment.

"It gives you something to shoot for when you get out of here."

"How do you know I'm getting out?" His brief moment of happiness started to slip away.

She was ready to pull him back though. "You're only in for two to five, grand theft, you'll be out of here before you know it. Probably two, if you keep your nose clean."

"How'd you know?"

"Wheels, they may not have told you about me, but I know about you!"

She was so positive, so full of life. He'd give anything to leave with her at the end of their four hour visit. He didn't realize it at the time, but she was managing to bring him back to life, right in the middle of his despair.

"What about you Legs, what do you do, when you're not visiting unsuspecting cons and giving them nicknames." That was the first wise crack he'd come up with in about a week and it really felt good to say it out loud.

She knew her visit was working on him. She started to feel his energy. And her smile was as brilliant as the sun outside, he'd finally noticed as it streamed in through the windows. "I'm waitressing right now, but I'm really trying to break into acting."

"Have you had any roles yet?"

"I've done a few commercials, but I'm still waiting for my big break too."

Mark shook his head from side to side. "Well, you're certainly a lot closer to your dream than I am."

"Just because you're in here? Please," she rolled her eyes at him. "You could be crowned Indy 500 champ while I'm still collecting fifty cent tips from disgusting old men at Barry's Bar and Grill."

OOOOO

And so the afternoon continued on in the same way, the two of them fell into easy and familiar conversation and it seemed to everyone that they had known each other forever. They even were able to step out into the outside visiting area, into the beautiful spring day for part of their visit.

As much as Mark dreaded the final five minutes of their visit, he somehow knew he'd been renewed on this day and it was all thanks to Katie Murphy and her legs.

Katie Murphy was one step ahead of him again.

"Wheels, if I write to you in here, will you write me back?"

Did she even have to ask? Mark didn't have to think about it. "Of course."

"Good, because I'm going to write my first letter to you tonight just as soon as I get home after my shift at the bar and grill." Her smile shone throughout the room once more as she got to her feet. "I really wish I could give you a hug Wheels."

"I wish that too Legs, but rules is rules, you know?"

"Listen, don't go giving up on your dreams just yet and neither will I, promise?"

"Promise!" McCormick answered.

"All right, should I leave first or should you? What's the protocol on this?"

"Definitely you," Mark began, "that way I can watch those legs of yours fade into the sunset."

"Oh now that's bad. Give me that grin of yours one more time Wheels, so I don't forget it, dimples and all."

Mark obliged.

"I'll see you soon Wheels." Mark lost his voice again and simply watched her walk off. When she had gone, he went back to his cell.

Two days later he got his first letter.

"_Dear Wheels,_

_I had so much fun talking with you earlier today. I hope you enjoyed it too. I believe that you could quite possibly become one of my most dearest and best of friends. We really understand each other Wheels. Did you feel it too?"_

_Like with our dreams, can either of us think of anything more spectacular? I'd love to have you on my arm as we walk down the red carpet, me, getting ready to be named Best Actress the day after you win the Indy 500._

_It's all out there for both of us Wheels. Don't forget it! I know I won't._

_I made an incredible $15 dollars in tips tonight. I'm thinking it's some sort of sign from up above. First I met you and then I got enough money for another singing lesson. _

_I'm telling you Wheels, I can feel my luck changing, and I'm giving all the credit (or blame) to you._

_Write soon and tell me everything I forgot to ask you about._

_Love forever,_

_Legs"_

Kate Murphy had written him 407 letters in total and visited him countless other times and on the day he was released, she was there, in her beat up Oldsmobile, to take him back to LA. He promised to change her oil in exchange for the ride. It was the first time they got to hug each other and if Mark had any say in the matter, he hoped it would never end. He lost count of how many times he whispered 'Thank You' in her ear as they stood outside the gates of San Quentin. She finally had to tell him to kindly knock it off, she got the message, so he stopped whispering but kept holding on to her. She felt and smelled just as good as he imagined she would over the span of 18 long months.

He had a job lined up at a body shop, with an old racing buddy and Flip had found him an apartment and had even put down the first month's rent for him, but that first night, after the drive down the coast, they'd wound up at Kate's place and proceeded to talk the entire night away. Their laughter was contagious. It was as if they'd been friends forever. It only seemed natural for both of them, catching up and moving forward together after 18 months had passed since they'd met. Neither one of them had any place they'd rather be or anyone they'd rather be with.

"Kate, you saved me, you know that don't you?"

"Hey, wait a minute there Wheels, quit being so dramatic, I'm the actress remember? You're the race car driver. You wouldn't like it if I jumped behind a wheel and took the checkered flag now would you?"

"I wouldn't mind, you deserve all the accolades, if it weren't for you, I don't think I could have made it through my sentence."

"That's not true, you sell yourself short Wheels, you're a survivor, like me." She tossed her head to the side. "And I do mind, I don't want you horning in on my acting career, not when it's starting to heat up. Did I tell you that I've got a part in a local show?"

"Legs that's fantastic," Mark said. "When does it start?"

"We start rehearsing tomorrow and they hope to launch it by the end of the month. Will you come?"

"Of course I'll be there, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Now we just need to get you a ride with one of the big sponsors."

McCormick gave her a half smile, "Let's get you this Oscar first, then we can worry about me. Right now, this is good. I'm out of prison and I have a great friend, and that's more than enough."

She sidled over to him on the couch and he let his arm slip around her shoulder and she let her head rest on his chest.

"We'll get there Wheels, I know we will, I can feel it."

"If you say so Legs, I believe you."

Mark knew that she'd gone and visited other prisoners at San Quentin, but he never did muster up the courage to ask her why she did it. Some things, he thought, were better left to be unknown. He was just glad she picked him.

OOOOO

After the night of endless talking, she dropped him off at his new apartment. He had to work a half-shift today at the body shop, and Kate promised to take him to Barry's Bar and Grill for dinner. She gave him a kiss and wished him luck on his new job. He told her to break a leg, but not really he kidded, at rehearsal. He really loved her legs and didn't want to see anything happen to her.

Before she went to the theatre, she detoured to the cemetery.

She knew exactly where she was heading and came around the curve and pulled over off the road just a little bit and she got out of her car and went over to the familiar gravestone. The name on it was Nick Murphy.

Kneeling down next to it, she began by placing a kiss on the headstone. Then she spoke softly. "Hi Daddy, I'm back for another visit. I'm sorry I didn't make it here yesterday, but I was picking up my friend Mark from your old stomping grounds, San Quentin. I've told you about him, I call him Wheels and he calls me Legs. He got out yesterday. Daddy, he's such a good friend, I'm sure you'd like him. He's a dreamer like I am Dad, just like you were. I wished I could have visited you too Daddy, while you were in prison there. I know you wanted me too, but back then it wasn't allowed. I was too little. They still have all sorts of stupid rules up there. I never forgot that though Daddy. Momma told me you said that every time she visited you. 'Sometimes all these fellas need is someone to care, someone to visit them.' I can still hear your voice Daddy. That's why I do it Dad, for you, I go and visit with them, because I couldn't visit you. I love you Dad. Watch over me and Mark." She stood up and a few tears fell from her eyes. Then she got back into her car and drove off.

OOOOO

When she picked him up at his apartment five hours later, her eyes were still filled with tears.

"Hey Legs, what's wrong?" Mark asked sliding in the seat beside her and noticing her crying right off. "What is it?" She sniffled and quickly wiped away her tears and gave him the smile he always looked forward too. "Oh no, you can't fool me," he continued, "Something's up, tell me? Let me help you for a change."

"Oh it's nothing quite as tragic as it appears," she paused and he waited impatiently, "They cancelled the show, that's all. The author wants to do a complete re-write and they're also dumping all the songs and requesting new ones. It'll be at least 14 months before they get back on track."

"I'm sorry Legs, I know how important that was to you."

"You know what? Nothing's as important as celebrating your freedom. There'll be other shows for me, but this is the first night of the rest of your life Wheels."

"You know what?" Mark began, "Flip gave me an advance, so dinner is on me, my treat and I won't take no for an answer."

"No Wheels, you need that money, you're just getting back on your feet."

"Nope, I'm working, and you're right we're celebrating and it's on me. Let me do this Kate?"

"But I promised you Mark."

"Things change, it's no big deal Legs," he paused, "tell you what, let's make this the first night of _both_ our lives. To our dreams you know?"

She flashed him that iridescent smile and he returned his dimpled grin. She gave him back that smile and took away the look of despair. He leaned over and gave her a kiss.

She pulled back and replied. "To our dreams!"


End file.
